Rule Number Two

Monday 29 December 2008
2100

Yesterday did not go the way I had planned. Sunday is a regular work day for us, but is usually a relatively quiet one when I can get some things done without too many interruptions. I had several important tasks that have really been needing to get done and that keep getting pushed aside. Finally I had dedicated time for them, and was determined to get them knocked out.

Unfortunately one of the NCOs in my section developed some alarming medical symptoms and had to be taken to the TMC (Troop Medical Clinic) for a consultation. Although I did get some work done in the morning in between taking him there and looking in on him from time to time, after lunch he had to go downtown to a civilian hospital for some tests, and I was the only one available to drive him there. So off we went.

As usual when I know I’m in for a long wait someplace, I took a book along. This time it was a book my mother recently gave me entitled “Rule Number Two” by Dr. Heidi Squier Kraft. Dr. Kraft was a U.S. Navy clinical psychologist who went to Iraq with the Marines in 2004. She served with a combat surgical team in western Iraq during some of the worst of the fighting, including during the battle for Fallujah, so she dealt with the casualties of war in a very up close and personal way. Since I was going to be sitting in a hospital waiting room, this book just seemed to be a logical choice to take along.

The title of the book comes from an episode of M*A*S*H*, when one doctor tells another that “There are two rules of war. Rule number one is that young men die. Rule number two is that doctors can’t change rule number one.”

Dr. Kraft’s job as a clinical psychologist was to observe and assist the people who came through her hospital to come to terms with the mental stresses and trauma they had been through. She also found herself doing the same thing for her colleagues, as they did for her from time to time. Her writing is simple and straightforward, but compelling and powerful, as is her subject.

There is no way that anything I write here can do this book justice, other than to say that everyone should read it. I was unable to put it down, and in the three-plus hours I sat in that waiting room I read it from cover to cover. I was glad I was alone in there, because anyone sitting there with me would have wondered if I was ok – I don’ think my eyes were dry for five minutes in a row the entire time I was reading. It’s just incredibly powerful and moving.

I came away from the book feeling a renewed sense of the deep respect I have for our military medical services, as well as for all the people serving at the sharp edge of the war. As usual when I read first-hand accounts of combat action and heroism under adverse conditions, I can’t help feeling as though I’m just not doing enough myself. Intellectually I know that I am making a contribution, but it feels insignificant compared to the wrenching, life-changing experiences of the people serving their tours up north under much more challenging conditions, in and near the actual combat. I suppose most people in the rear feel that way at least some of the time – kind of a distant third-cousin to survivor’s guilt (“How did I get lucky enough to end up here while they are up there?”).

Anyway, it sure put things in perspective for me. That’s a good thing once in awhile.

Mood: Sober
Music: Silence